Pull the pin
by daniellemcfarlane
Summary: C/H just a oneshot I have had in my head for a while. Enjoy


A/N: I only own the idea. The song belongs to Sleeping At Last.

She hadn't been able to hold on to her denial any longer. The battle of convincing herself that his voice didn't constantly occupy her thoughts, both waking and dreaming had been pointless, and she threw up her hands and finally walked away. Behind her, she left the FBI, with all its hollow promises and smothering expectations. It had taken Clarice 4 years from when Hannibal escaped to come to her revelation. Those years had been spent doing paperwork that was almost as deep as her self delusions. When realization hit her it had not came as a shock, but as a slow wakefulness. When she walked out the doors of the building that held her caged for so many years for the last time, a great weight was lifted from her. Today was the start of the life she deserved.

Leaving it all behind had been easy. Relocation felt right. To say the doctors voice in her mind had not influenced her dwelling would be a lie. Wanting to know some of the places he had seen was what had made her select Italy. Perhaps if she allowed herself to exist in the places he had thought worthy of his eyes to look upon, his voice in her mind would quiet. Knowing too late you want someone beside you is a bitter pill to swallow. Would she ever look in to those eyes again?

The days passed her by with little significance. Finding a job she could do on auto pilot had been simple. Friendly by nature, it had not taken long for a opportunity to surface. Working at a little cafe provided her with a surprising feeling of calm and she allowed herself to get lost in the day-to-day. The mixture of new faces and regulars provided her with judgment free small talk. These people knew little about the life that she had left behind her, shrugged off like a dead layer of skin.

Local musicians would often play in the outdoor seating area. It was here she often had lunch, content to listen to the music and gaze out in to the constantly changing landscape of people as they passed by. It was like any other day, and then suddenly it was not. The way her skin felt under his gaze was a unmistakable feeling. It had came on so suddenly. For the remainder of her lunch she looked for him. Every face in the throngs of people now held a whisper of possibility. None were his. When her lunch came to a end she was left feeling off balance. Perhaps desperation had caused her to dream up the entire thing.

Hannibal was not the type to get restless. His mind palace and lifestyle were more then enough to occupy him. As the years post-escape passed him by, however, he found his thoughts becoming increasingly occupied by one thing. Clarice. Was she still holding to her job like a lifeline? Had she allowed herself time to reflect, or had she simply kept her head down, finding it easier. Travel had worked to silence his thoughts of her, until it dropped him in front of her nose.

When he had first caught a glimpse of her it had taken him completely by surprise. Startling him was no small task, but Hannibal knew for Clarice it was little effort to do so. Watching her had revealed her new occupation. Had she finally decided to spread her wings? Her movements indicated a peacefulness that he had not observed before. Drawn in like a moth to the flame, he returned frequently to look from a distance. When he had allowed his eyes to linger a bit too long he thought he had been detected. With caution now, he saw her eyes seek him out. Had he detected hunger in them?

The want to feel his eyes again became her main focus. Not knowing if she had dreamt the feeling did not matter, so long as it came again. Every lunch break she sat at the same table, and with every uneventful one she felt her frustration build. Was she really so far gone as to pine after someone who probably wasn't even there? On the tenth day she decided that no, she was not.

No musicians played outside and Clarice found the strange quiet to be unsettling. Needing a change she left the table, and the hopes of feeling his gaze behind her. The sun was warm and she thought it a perfect day for an ice cream. Ordering a chocolate cone she decided to enjoy it outside. Seating herself on a bench, the sun provided a welcome heat against her skin. As she tasted her ice cream her eyes closed in enjoyment.

"Why hello, Clarice," her inhale of breath caused her to choke on her ice cream. Coughing she opened her eyes and found herself face to face with its owner. In her haste to stand she had dropped her cone. It lay on the ground between them, like a sacrificial offering. A soft click of his tongue indicated his displeasure. "Shall I get you another? You appeared to be enjoying it." He noted she had chocolate on her lips. He ached to lick it off.

Furiously she shook her head. A blush made her skin a delightful pink. From the cafe the sound of a guitar could be heard. Soon a violin joined as well. "What, what are you doing here?" Her voice came out of her on a breath that smelled like chocolate. A soft breeze carried with it the words of the vocalist who had joined the strings.

I am short of breath

Standing next to you 

I'm out of my depth

At this altitude 

"Traveling," his answer was simple, but his next question was not. "I think I should be the one asking you that. Does the FBI have you on the man hunt for my head? Have I found you here only to have you whisk me away?"

When he spoke feelings she had kept dormant made their way to the surface. Had his question held a hint of accusation? Trying to find the words to answer him was difficult, but still she tried. "I left a few months ago. I realized I would never find what I wanted there. No matter how hard I pushed, no one saw my full potential after you..." What was there after someone like Hannibal? Once she had allowed him in her head nothing else stood a chance.

"After I what Clarice? I hope your not blaming me for the stupidity of your coworkers. That would be terribly rude." The last words came out very low.

"Are you threatening me, Doctor?" Not allowing her voice to show any of the anxiety that had started to surface, she met his eyes. Sparks danced in their depths and it was all she could do to remember to breathe.

"Are you, my dear?" How captivating she was in that moment. From her eyes the answer was obvious, but he still waited for her to give one.

"No. I would never want to be responsible for depriving you of your view." From her pocket her phone buzzed indicating only a few minutes remained of her lunch break.

"Ah, and what a breath taking view it is." His eyes never left her face as he spoke. A strand of hair stuck to the chocolate on her lips. Reaching out he brushed it behind her ear. He did not allow his fingers to touch her skin. From the way her breath had caught he wondered if he should have.

Like the world makes sense

From your window seat 

You are beautiful

Like I've never seen

"I only have a few minutes until I have to go back. Are you, have you been well?" How did one hand their heart to someone in 5 minutes. How could she make up for all the time her bullheadedness had caused? What if he had never wanted her as anything more then a tool to amuse himself from behind bars? Yet he still stood there gazing at her like their was nothing else around them worth looking at.

"I have been content with the ability to stretch my legs. Tell me Clarice, have you finally allowed those wings of yours to do the same? When one leaves the nest, it is often to fly. Do you feel the wind rushing past your skin?"

Go ahead and laugh

Even if it hurts 

Go ahead and pull the pin 

What if we could risk 

Everything we have

And just let our walls cave in 

"Not quite yet." Her words were very soft. If someone had passed by in that moment they would have thought they were meant for a lover. Perhaps they were. "I owe you a apology Hannibal." The way his name felt on her lips when she said it out loud made her head spin.

When his name came from her mouth he felt something dormant wake within himself. This woman would never stop catching him off guard. Inhaling deeply the scent of her skin mingled with that of her perfume.

"It has taken me far too long to stop living in black and white. I was stubborn but I should have known from the beginning that you are far too complex to fall in such clearly defined parameters."

I am short of breath

Standing next to you 

I'll be the dangerous ledge

You be the parachute 

When she spoke something like relief washed over him. Finally, was she starting to understand? Had her eyes opened wide enough to see him for all that he was, not only his actions? In that moment Hannibal had no words.

"I think it would be quite something to know you in personal life," she smiled when the words came from her lips. Did he remember when he had told her the same? Looking in his eyes she saw he most certainly did.

"Ah, Clarice, you leave me searching for how best to respond. Your forwardness is very invigorating. I do recall you not being so receptive when I spoke those words to you however. What, do you think, has changed hmm?"

Letting go of her doubts she gave her answer. "I stopped fighting. When I did I realized without knowing when or how I no longer wanted a life with just your voice in my mind. You have uncovered so many things about me I would have never dared to do on my own. I believe that selflessness has to be something worth wanting. I feel safer standing here with you than I ever have in my life. That has to be worth bending my morals for. I don't want to pretend like I don't want this any more."

Green and blue below 

Is a masterpiece 

But you are beautiful

Like I've never seen 

He still had not spoken. The feel of his eyes moved her forward and before she could stop herself fingers brushed skin. In that moment the world appeared to stop its rotation, if only briefly. "Clarice," her name was the only word he had spoken before her lips pressed against his.

Chocolate and her lips were the perfect combination. Emotion seized him then and his arms came up around her waist. The feel of her skin was blocked by the fabric of her clothes and he ached to remove them from her in that moment. "Finish your shift, then come home with me," his words came out husky against her lips. His tongue removed the ice cream. Beneath his hands he felt her tremble.

"Yes." She had responded with no hesitancy. Letting her go he watched her step back. Immediately he ached to feel her again. As she turned to go back the last words of the song hung in the air like the warmth she left on his skin.

Go ahead and laugh

Even if it hurts 

Go ahead and pull the pin 

What if we could risk 

Everything we have

And just let our walls cave in 

When she had finished for the day he was waiting, as he said he would be. Under her skin anticipation flooded her senses. Now there was nothing between them. No more bars, no more unspoken words. It had been quite some time since Clarice had felt longing. Allowing the feeling to surface, she let him open her car door and sat down.

"Are you hungry my dear?" The question needed to be thought over. Their was more then one kind of hunger. Realizing the one she felt had little to do with food she tried to think of a suitable response.

"Yes, but I don't want you to cook for me." Had his jaw clenched when she spoke? Stammering to recover she went on. "I don't mean it the way you're probably taking it! I know anything you cooked would be amazing and any other time I would be happy to..."

He was looking at her strangely as they waited at a red light. "Anything?" His head slightly tilted to the side as he observed her reaction.

"Uh, no! Not anything! Not that...are you laughing at me!?" The quietest of sounds told her he was doing just that. "I just meant, I'm not hungry for food!"

"Fascinating, what then would you be hungry for?" Making her flush, he thought, would become a new favourite pass time.

"You know damn well," she mumbled.

"Hmm? Speak up my dear. You didn't say anything unsavoury did you now?"

If he had not been driving at that moment she would have shown him unsavoury. Instead she shook her head and released the frustration she felt in a shaky breath. "I know you enjoy games, but today can you please just stop playing them?"

"Are you quite certain? I can think of a few you might find acceptable. When he licked his lips she couldn't be bothered to stifle the sound of pleasurable frustration that she made.

"You know exactly what you're doing here, don't you?" Running her hands through her hair, she opened the window to cool herself down.

"Not quite," he had stolen her words, she noted. He closed the window and she huffed in exasperation. "Delectable," he murmured. She almost jumped out of her skin when his hand squeezed her leg. "Skittish?" His eyes gently mocked her with the question.

"No, just...overly eager and restless. It's been too long. I mean not that I've done...I just meant..." again he laughed. Surprising herself, she swatted his shoulder.

"Babble on, it's music to my ears." When he turned in to his driveway thoughts of how she would sound lost in passion occupied his mind. Hoping he would find out he went around to open her door. Noting the slight tremor in her legs as she stood and the scent of her, he guessed she hoped for the same.

The house was gorgeous, but this came as no surprise to her. Would he have accepted anything less? Why was she here then? She ignored the voice in her head asking the stupid question.

"Would you like a drink?" Tension came from her in waves. Perhaps this would relax them.

Shaking her head she met his gaze. "No, I don't want anything to cloud this for me. Just, don't laugh this time ok? I was trying to say I haven't done this before earlier."

He didn't laugh. "I think it is I who needs a drink now." When he poured she detected the slightest of tremors in his hand.

"It's not a big thing. I mean, sure, I'm kind of, unsure as to what to expect..."

Swallowing a mouthful of wine he set his glass on the counter. "In that you're not alone. I can't say I've ever...Your a mystery to me. Why on Earth have you not...surely men have..."

"Babble on," she said softly. As he threw up his hands laughter shook her frame. "I'm not the type to accept mediocre attempts at fumbling and call it love." Freezing she realized what she had just said and lunged for his glass, taking a gulp.

It was his turn to laugh now, this time it was not quiet. "Wine is best sipped my dear. From your face I'm guessing that you do not prefer red. As to your last sentence, is love what you call this?"

"I don't have any other word for it. It's taken me too long to figure it out."

"Something's are worth the wait. I guess given your, circumstance, you would agree hmm?"

Nodding her head she moved closer to him. When she leaned against him he noted how her heart rate picked up.

"I allowed myself to think of, mediocre fumbling, with you only once. His hand came up to her hair as he continued. "Never in that, scenario, had I left room for you to..."

"What did you picture?" She had pressed herself closer now and he ached to demonstrate. "Maybe you could show me?" His hand tightened in her hair then and she gasped, moulding herself closer.

"Clarice, I'm not sure if it would be wise to...I think these things take some level of restraint."

Leaning even harder against him now she heard him hiss. "You're not going to give me some hesitant gentle version of you are you? I'm not so fragile as to not know what I can handle. If you want to go slow for your own wants, fair enough." She moved her hips gently against him to emphasize her next words. "But, don't, hold, back, for, me." Her last word was lost admits a moan as she could feel his excitement against her.

The movement of her hips made up his mind. With a low growl he picked her up and carried her to his bed. He did not drop her, but lower her gently down. Passion would not make him sloppy. Pulling her clothes off had been a jumble of gasps and skin and want. When his hands shook he had not the will power to stop them.

Always in her mind when her clothes came off she imagined feeling exposed. In reality with him she only felt goosebumps. When his eyes drank her in she shuddered and felt blood rush to all the right places.

Nothing had prepared him for this moment. Here lay the focus of his thoughts in flesh and bone. She was beautiful. Struggling to keep his breathing even he allowed himself to reach out. As his fingers glided over her skin he thought it softer than silk. Lowering his lips to her neck he kissed her pulse. Pressing his teeth against her skin, his breath came out ragged as she pulled him down with her legs.

"Hannibal," her voice was a whimper in his ear. Arching up her hips she tightened her legs around him. "I want you closer." Fingers scrambled to find skin under his clothes. Not wanting to disappoint he pushed back from her body to remove them. Watching him do so made her squirm with excitement.

When he knelt between her legs she pressed her nails in to her palms. When he softly clicked his tongue she had not understood why until he loosened her grip. "No need for self mutalation, my dear." Pressing her palms flat against the bed he kissed her inner thigh.

When his tongue had flicked against her sex it was without warning. Not expecting it she was unable to stop the moan that tumbled from her lips. As his tongue increased its attention she found herself clinging to the bedding. Faster and harder he made her tremble with approaching release.

Taking her to the edge had been exquisite. When she was close he pulled back. When he saw her in the midst of passion his own increased to a fever pitch. Moving up her body he kissed her stomach. Then her breasts and jaw. Finally he took her lips, parting them with his tongue. She had shuddered when she tasted herself on him, he noted. "Put your hands on my back," his voice was urgent against her mouth. Drawing back from her mouth he continued, a softness replacing it. "Rest your nails on my skin. When you feel pain, press them in to me, do you understand? It will hurt Clarice, I will not go slow as it will prolong the pain."

For the briefest of moments she was afraid. Listening to what he told her she rested her nails against his skin. For a moment time seemed to stop as she felt him against her opening. Had she felt his heart beat, or was it her own? When he touched her face, her eyes had went to close.

"No, Clarice," his voice shook then, "keep them open." His hand on her cheek gave the gentlest of caresses, and then he was filling her.

She had screamed, and dug in her nails, but still it hurt. Breath coming in gasps, she realized she was crying as his lips kissed her tears. Even though he trembled, he never stopped moving. Arching up she found his shoulder and bit. When his hands twisted in her hair she released his skin from between her teeth to moan. Her tongue traced the indents she had left on his skin.

"Better?" his voice was thick with emotion. Hearing her pain was both exciting and terrifying to him. As her hips began to copy his pace he knew it was.

Passion claimed them both then and it had not taken long for them to find their release. Suddenly the room was alive with the cries of ecstasy. When they had came back down to Earth they curled together. It had taken 4 years, but Hannibal thought they had been well worth the wait.


End file.
